Chapter 9: The First Snog
Ginny growled and marched over to where Draco was still leaning insouciantly against the wall. With one sharp movement, she kicked his shin and would have stomped away if this hadn't caused him to slide down to the ground. "Oh, stop faking and get up. I didn't kick you all that hard."
"Not that hard? I think you broke it, you bloody vicious harpy." Draco glared at her, then leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. Ginny sighed and knelt over him, running her hands over the leg she had kicked. His eyes popped open and he blurted out, "Gosh, you're pretty."
"I did not know it was humanly possibly to be as sloshed as you are right now." Ginny shook her head and looked at him, almost in awe. "How do you manage to talk normally? I drink anywhere near that much and I'm practically paralytic."
He looked at her with injured feelings shining from his eyes. "I'm not all that drunk. Just slightly good to go."
"Malfoy. You just called me, a Weasley, the fat girl with all the freckles and the ugly hair, pretty." Ginny sat back on her heels and pinned him with a glare.
"So? Just because you're not skin and bones doesn't mean you're not pretty." Warming up to his subject and ignoring the little voice inside that said Malfoys shouldn't babble, he continued. "Honestly, women are stupid. They keep starving themselves because of what they think men want when it's other women who're the only ones impressed. It doesn't take being drunk to realize that, Weasel."
Ginny looked at him in disbelief as he ranted, then said simply, "You used the word 'gosh'."
"Did I?" Draco thought about it a moment and realized she was right. "All right, you have a point. I must be pickled to the gills."
"You certainly smell like a distillery. What were you about, going out for a booze-up with my brother of all people?" Ginny hauled him to his feet and grunted as his arm went around her shoulder and his weight rested on her. "What've you been eating, rocks?"
He just leaned into her harder, his face hovering near enough to hers to give new meaning to the term 'dragon breath'. "Now, now, Weasel. You have to be nice to me or I'll tell Snape that you were irresponsible in your duties."
Ginny snorted. "I thought you'd given up being a stinking tattletale after all that business with the war and your psychotic father."
"Can I help it if whiskey makes me nostalgic? Next thing you know I'll be turning down the opportunity to snog in favor of quidditch." He snickered and almost steered them into a wall.
"Malfoy, if you don't stop messing about and just tell me where your room is, I'll personally see to it that you never snog again." Ginny tugged her hair out from where his arm had it trapped and glared at him.
"Weasel, Weasel, Weasel. If you'd wanted a snog you should have just said so." With surprising grace for someone who had been staggering and falling all over her, he moved so that her back was against a blank section of wall, his hands on her shoulders holding her in place. His lips were on hers and she couldn't think all of a sudden, just close her eyes and try to reconcile how good it felt with the impossibility of it being Draco Malfoy who deliberately set out to kiss her. Wasn't there supposed to be a law against jerks being great kissers?
She heard him mutter 'Eugenie', the right way, 'you-jeh-knee', instead of 'you-jean-ee', and wondered if that was his idea of romantic, calling her by her full name. Then the portrait on the wall next to her slid open and he was pulling her through, kissing her neck and otherwise making it hard to think.
"Wait!" Sense started to creep back in when she felt his hands start to move south of the equator. "You're drunk."
He moved her hair out of the way and nibbled at the skin just below her ear. "We'd established that, now can we get back to more interesting things?"
Seventeen years of dealing with larger siblings, added to a considerable muscle tone from hours and hours of quidditch practice, meant that Ginny Weasley could be fairly emphatic when she wanted to be. The shove she gave not only knocked Malfoy down, he skidded backwards several feet. He glared up at her past the hair that had fallen into his eyes. "What the hell was that for?"
"Because you're drunk and randy and I don't feel like being the next anonymous notch on your bedpost." She stomped her foot in a way even she realized was incredibly childish, then whirled and left the room, slamming the portrait shut behind her. She could hear him cursing and she ran for her room with everything that was in her.
"Ginny?" Hermione looked up from the book she had been reading. "What happened? I couldn't get much out of Ron before he passed out."
"I've got detention once a week until I leave Hogwarts, I dumped Malfoy in his room, and I may very well kill my brother once he's sober enough to suffer." Ginny scowled and crossed her arms. "What happened to him, anyway?"
"He said something about helping, then something about Snape and chili which I'm not sure I want to know more about, then he passed out." Hermione pointed to the blanket covered lump on the floor and winced when Ginny kicked at it on her way back from brushing her teeth. Something about the redhead's previous speech struck her and she said, "Wait, did you say you took Malfoy to his room? Why?"
"Because apparently he and my brother are now drinking mates. I'm buggered if I know what they talked about." Ginny plopped into bed and pulled up the covers before imitating her brother's voice, saying, "So, Malfoy, you're an evil Slytherin prat. Have a pint, on me."
Hermione nibbled on her quill before placing it inside the book and going towards her own bed. "Well, we'll ask him in the morning."
That plan was thwarted by Ron disappearing before either girl woke up, and avoiding breakfast. Things were relatively quiet, although Ginny looked a bit odd after receiving an owl that Hermione recognized as coming from the twins. She promptly went back to flirting with Lyle Tarvit, but there was something forced about it that had Hermione resolving to corner her about it later.
She ended up being forgetting all about it, though, because she saw Ginny stiffen up and blush furiously before making an excuse and scurrying away. A quick look around the hall and Hermione had diagnosed the likely cause for this event to be a scowling Draco Malfoy. His entire attention was riveted to Ginny until the doors closed behind her, and then he had still glared after her so fiercely it was a wonder the huge double doors hadn't been singed. "Very interesting."
"What's interesting?" Harry looked quizzically at Hermione, who seemed to have been staring off into space for some time.
"Oh! Um, I was just thinking about whether Professor McGonagall might consider incorporating Transfiguration with Muggle Studies for certain projects." It was weak, and Hermione knew it.
Harry apparently had no interest on taking a chance on her elaborating, however. "Sounds great, Hermione, but I have, uh, quidditch practice. See you later!"
The next week was quiet, relatively speaking. Ginny had spent several days intently poring through a small stack of battered books drawn out of the depths of her trunk. Hermione had continued with her embroidery, researching the spell for Ginny's costume, and the ever amusing floor show of Ginny and Malfoy. It was gratifying to watch Ron turn bright colors and mumble, but watching his sister do it was bringing Hermione an almost unholy amount of glee. That Malfoy was continually looking Byronic and smoldering just made it all the harder to contain the giggles.
This is why it took as long as it did for Hermione to realize she was being followed.
Ginny growled and marched over to where Draco was still leaning insouciantly against the wall. With one sharp movement, she kicked his shin and would have stomped away if this hadn't caused him to slide down to the ground. "Oh, stop faking and get up. I didn't kick you all that hard."
"Not that hard? I think you broke it, you bloody vicious harpy." Draco glared at her, then leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. Ginny sighed and knelt over him, running her hands over the leg she had kicked. His eyes popped open and he blurted out, "Gosh, you're pretty."
"I did not know it was humanly possibly to be as sloshed as you are right now." Ginny shook her head and looked at him, almost in awe. "How do you manage to talk normally? I drink anywhere near that much and I'm practically paralytic."
He looked at her with injured feelings shining from his eyes. "I'm not all that drunk. Just slightly good to go."
"Malfoy. You just called me, a Weasley, the fat girl with all the freckles and the ugly hair, pretty." Ginny sat back on her heels and pinned him with a glare.
"So? Just because you're not skin and bones doesn't mean you're not pretty." Warming up to his subject and ignoring the little voice inside that said Malfoys shouldn't babble, he continued. "Honestly, women are stupid. They keep starving themselves because of what they think men want when it's other women who're the only ones impressed. It doesn't take being drunk to realize that, Weasel."
Ginny looked at him in disbelief as he ranted, then said simply, "You used the word 'gosh'."
"Did I?" Draco thought about it a moment and realized she was right. "All right, you have a point. I must be pickled to the gills."
"You certainly smell like a distillery. What were you about, going out for a booze-up with my brother of all people?" Ginny hauled him to his feet and grunted as his arm went around her shoulder and his weight rested on her. "What've you been eating, rocks?"
He just leaned into her harder, his face hovering near enough to hers to give new meaning to the term 'dragon breath'. "Now, now, Weasel. You have to be nice to me or I'll tell Snape that you were irresponsible in your duties."
Ginny snorted. "I thought you'd given up being a stinking tattletale after all that business with the war and your psychotic father."
"Can I help it if whiskey makes me nostalgic? Next thing you know I'll be turning down the opportunity to snog in favor of quidditch." He snickered and almost steered them into a wall.
"Malfoy, if you don't stop messing about and just tell me where your room is, I'll personally see to it that you never snog again." Ginny tugged her hair out from where his arm had it trapped and glared at him.
"Weasel, Weasel, Weasel. If you'd wanted a snog you should have just said so." With surprising grace for someone who had been staggering and falling all over her, he moved so that her back was against a blank section of wall, his hands on her shoulders holding her in place. His lips were on hers and she couldn't think all of a sudden, just close her eyes and try to reconcile how good it felt with the impossibility of it being Draco Malfoy who deliberately set out to kiss her. Wasn't there supposed to be a law against jerks being great kissers?
She heard him mutter 'Eugenie', the right way, 'you-jeh-knee', instead of 'you-jean-ee', and wondered if that was his idea of romantic, calling her by her full name. Then the portrait on the wall next to her slid open and he was pulling her through, kissing her neck and otherwise making it hard to think.
"Wait!" Sense started to creep back in when she felt his hands start to move south of the equator. "You're drunk."
He moved her hair out of the way and nibbled at the skin just below her ear. "We'd established that, now can we get back to more interesting things?"
Seventeen years of dealing with larger siblings, added to a considerable muscle tone from hours and hours of quidditch practice, meant that Ginny Weasley could be fairly emphatic when she wanted to be. The shove she gave not only knocked Malfoy down, he skidded backwards several feet. He glared up at her past the hair that had fallen into his eyes. "What the hell was that for?"
"Because you're drunk and randy and I don't feel like being the next anonymous notch on your bedpost." She stomped her foot in a way even she realized was incredibly childish, then whirled and left the room, slamming the portrait shut behind her. She could hear him cursing and she ran for her room with everything that was in her.
"Ginny?" Hermione looked up from the book she had been reading. "What happened? I couldn't get much out of Ron before he passed out."
"I've got detention once a week until I leave Hogwarts, I dumped Malfoy in his room, and I may very well kill my brother once he's sober enough to suffer." Ginny scowled and crossed her arms. "What happened to him, anyway?"
"He said something about helping, then something about Snape and chili which I'm not sure I want to know more about, then he passed out." Hermione pointed to the blanket covered lump on the floor and winced when Ginny kicked at it on her way back from brushing her teeth. Something about the redhead's previous speech struck her and she said, "Wait, did you say you took Malfoy to his room? Why?"
"Because apparently he and my brother are now drinking mates. I'm buggered if I know what they talked about." Ginny plopped into bed and pulled up the covers before imitating her brother's voice, saying, "So, Malfoy, you're an evil Slytherin prat. Have a pint, on me."
Hermione nibbled on her quill before placing it inside the book and going towards her own bed. "Well, we'll ask him in the morning."
That plan was thwarted by Ron disappearing before either girl woke up, and avoiding breakfast. Things were relatively quiet, although Ginny looked a bit odd after receiving an owl that Hermione recognized as coming from the twins. She promptly went back to flirting with Lyle Tarvit, but there was something forced about it that had Hermione resolving to corner her about it later.
She ended up being forgetting all about it, though, because she saw Ginny stiffen up and blush furiously before making an excuse and scurrying away. A quick look around the hall and Hermione had diagnosed the likely cause for this event to be a scowling Draco Malfoy. His entire attention was riveted to Ginny until the doors closed behind her, and then he had still glared after her so fiercely it was a wonder the huge double doors hadn't been singed. "Very interesting."
"What's interesting?" Harry looked quizzically at Hermione, who seemed to have been staring off into space for some time.
"Oh! Um, I was just thinking about whether Professor McGonagall might consider incorporating Transfiguration with Muggle Studies for certain projects." It was weak, and Hermione knew it.
Harry apparently had no interest on taking a chance on her elaborating, however. "Sounds great, Hermione, but I have, uh, quidditch practice. See you later!"
The next week was quiet, relatively speaking. Ginny had spent several days intently poring through a small stack of battered books drawn out of the depths of her trunk. Hermione had continued with her embroidery, researching the spell for Ginny's costume, and the ever amusing floor show of Ginny and Malfoy. It was gratifying to watch Ron turn bright colors and mumble, but watching his sister do it was bringing Hermione an almost unholy amount of glee. That Malfoy was continually looking Byronic and smoldering just made it all the harder to contain the giggles.
This is why it took as long as it did for Hermione to realize she was being followed.
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